


When Noble Emily Met Dean Winchester

by bushlaboo



Series: When Noble Emily [1]
Category: General Hospital, Supernatural
Genre: Action/Adventure, Crossover, F/M, First Meetings, On the Run, Romance, mob
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-09
Updated: 2015-01-09
Packaged: 2018-03-06 20:47:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3148088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bushlaboo/pseuds/bushlaboo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Selling your soul means you get a vacation, but with Dean Winchester’s luck it doesn’t mean it will be a peaceful one, especially dodging bullets and dealing with the mouth of one Damian Spinelli. Meeting Emily, however, is a perk ... sort of. At least it is interesting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When Noble Emily Met Dean Winchester

**Author's Note:**

> This was another meet-cute between Emily and Dean that I wrote in honor of my pal's birthday. The timeline for the story was shortly after the introduction of the Zacharra family on _General Hospital_ , but before the Black & White Ball, which wouldn't exist away since Emily and Nikolas are broken up. Also different, Georgie and Spinelli being together and our brilliant hacker getting a little too close to the Zacharras with his cyber skills. As for the _Supernatural_ timeline, this takes place a couple months into Dean's deal.
> 
> I have a follow-up piece to this, again written for my wonderful Mind-Twin called When Noble Emily Met the Angel Castiel which I still tinker with so I may or may not post it, because I've left enough incomplete stories out there.

“Emily, would you please just do this for me?” Jason asked his voice heavy with exhaustion. Looking at her brother Emily had never seen him so worn. Hiding Jake’s paternity, breaking his heart by staying away from Elizabeth, and dealing with the latest threat to his business with Sonny – Anthony Zacharra – was taking its toll.

 

Her instinctual protest died on her lips as she held his gaze, his blue eyes were troubled and that concerned her. Her brother was not the kind of man who asked for help often and to refuse him, even for valid reasons, seemed impossible. Mentally she listed reasons why she could not simply take off from Port Charles: her internship at General Hospital, the current Quartermaine family in-fighting, the fact that her best friends’ marriage was falling apart and they needed support, not to mention the fact that it was clear Jason would need support of his own. Of course if it risked putting her in danger he wouldn’t take it. Part of the reason he wanted to send her away in the first place was too keep her safe. Spinelli having someone to keep an eye out for him was just an added bonus. The bond between the young computer hacker and her brother hadn’t made sense to Emily in the beginning. On the surface Jason Morgan and Damian Spinelli were complete opposites, but over the last few months she had come to see that they had similar hearts and capacity for love.

 

Still being the young man’s keeper was not high on her to-do list and undoubtedly Jason would tell Spinelli that he was tasked with keeping her safe to spare his feelings. Emily knew Spinelli would take that charge seriously, God help them both. The only upside she could find in Jason’s request was that she would be getting away from yet another messy breakup with Nikolas. She could only hope that the third time was a charm. It wasn’t so much having her heart broken by Nikolas, _yet again_ ; as it was learning to accept and forgive because they’d been friends too long for her to completely wash her hands of him. Time away from his apologies and attempts to fix things would be welcomed, but she continued to hesitate.

 

“I want to tell you yes, Jase, I really do.” He waited in his patient quite manner for her next words and that is what did her in. “So I guess I will then. At least I won’t be the one to have to explain to Mac why Georgie took off with us.”

 

That caused Jason to flinch, ever so slightly, but her agreement eased a good bit of his tension and for that Emily was grateful. “Thank you.”

 

Closing the gap between them, Emily hugged him. She would miss the comfort of his embrace while she was away. “Anything for you.” Her words were muffed by his chest, but she had no doubt that Jason understood them – the sentiment was mutual.

 

\---

 

Sam gritted his teeth against the blaring music. He liked Metallica well enough, just clearly, not as much as his brother did. It would do little good to complain about Dean’s choice in music. His older brother would simply remind him of the rules of the road – “driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cake-hole.” Then Dean would gleefully twist the volume knob so that music would pound even louder.

 

Wanting to avoid that at all cost Sam reminded himself that getting Dean to take a few days off was a miracle in itself. Ever since they faced off against Jake and the Yellow-Eye Demon, Dean had been all business. Hundreds of demons had been let loose and his brother had taken hunting them down and destroying them as his personal mission. He never stopped. Unless the numerous one-night stands Dean had counted and Sam preferred to think that they didn’t; in fact, he tried not to think about his brother’s sex life, but outside of hunting that was all Dean was about these days.

 

In the rare moment of emotional vulnerability Dean allowed himself, his brother had confessed that his determination to track down as many of the demons as possible was so that Sam wouldn’t have to face them by himself when Dean’s deal came due. Sam shifted anxiously in the bench seat of the Impala. Dean’s deal was still a sore spot between them. The elder Winchester refused to talk about it. Done was done, as far as Dean was concerned. That was not the case for Sam.

 

Dean was going to die for him. Considering their chosen profession that had always been a risk, a hunt could go wrong, some even had, and death loomed large over them. They had been lucky enough to find ways to skate around it, but not this time. Dean was going to die and spend eternity in hell because of him. That knowledge had been burning through his mind and heart for months.

 

He was carrying around so much regret and anger, not that he could express it. Every time he tried to apologize or spoke about how he shouldn’t have turned his back on Jake, Dean stopped him. “It was my choice Sammy. ‘Sides we can’t change what happened.” That was how his brother usually cut him off, unless he was pissed, then it was: “Damn it Sam we’re through talking about this.”

 

Between hunts he searched tirelessly for a way to break Dean’s deal, but had come up emptied handed. And when he had finally learned that if a demon was destroyed before a debt was due a soul couldn’t be claimed he felt like rejoicing. That was until Dean reminded him that apart of his deal was that he wouldn’t squelch. Sam argued that he would take on the thing himself and was rewarded with one of his brother’s patented are-you-stupid-looks. At the time it pissed him off, but every point his brother made was valid. They didn’t know which demon Dean had struck the deal with (“Having demon tongue down my throat was foul enough. I wasn’t going to ask its name.”), even if they did know which demon there was no way of knowing where it was and without Ash their chances of tracking it were zil. There was also the question of how to kill it. Submerging a demon in holy water was no easy feat and the Colt was out of bullets.

 

Bobby had mentioned a knife, but its existence like the Colt’s was one of story not fact. They had no idea where to look and Dean refused to waste time since they hadn’t managed to find proof that it was more than some hunter’s legend. Instead they had spent months crisscrossing America, Dean drinking and sexing it up, while they killed everything evil they came across.

 

Sam had been at his wit’s end when he remembered the conversation they had over beers after the nightmarish events in Rivergrove. Dean waxed nostalgic about how, with all their traveling, he’d never been to the Grand Canyon. He meant it, of that Sam was certain; but it had also been a ploy. At the time he had tunnel vision, his entire focus had been on Yellow-Eyed Demon and his plans. Thinking back on it, Sam wished he would have acquiesced. If they had gone to the Grand Canyon like Dean suggested ... “Dude, you’re doing it again,” his brother’s warning cut off his thoughts.

 

“Doing what?” he asked shooting Dean a sideways glance.

 

“Thinking what if and you promised to stop if we took this trip.”

 

“Have we been to the Canyon yet? No I don’t think we have, so stop policing my thoughts,” Sam ordered. He winced at the bitchy tone in his voice.

 

“Sammy, you _need_ to get laid,” Dean remarked before turning up the volume.

 

\---

 

Glancing in the rearview mirror Emily could see that the road was empty behind them. She took a quick second to appreciate how adorable Georgie and Spinelli looked curled up next to each other in the backseat, before her eyes shifted back to the road ahead of her. Mist drifted off the dark road before disappearing outside the illumination caused by the Jeep’s headlights as she listened to the gentle ratta-tap-tap against the window shield as rain continued to fall. Silently she cursed herself for pressing forward instead of grabbing a room like her companions suggested after dinner. They weren’t in a hurry to get anywhere. They had spent the last eight days they had been on the road meandering with no destination in mind, just orders to keep on the road until further notice.

 

With that in mind they had been hop-scotching around the American heartland. Talk of hiking in Yellowstone had been shot down because of Spinelli’s lack of experience, hitting the waves in Florida or California was vetoed because all that open sand felt a little too exposed to Emily, which was the same reason she nixed Georgie’s idea of the mountains. As November was quickly fading into December the chance of getting caught in a snowbound town with the wrong people took precedence over the chance to hit the sloops while Spinelli and Georgie made cute over a roaring fire.

 

Besides Emily didn’t want to contemplate the ramification if they couldn’t keep Spinelli in orange soda and barbeque chips. That thought caused her to chuckle and remember the earlier look of confusion on their waitress, Sandi’s, face. Spinelli speak was not something everyone understood, so when he asked to “partake in the nectar of the Gods.” Sandi, with an “i,” stood there with a dumbfounded look on her face, clearly wondering why she was always saddled with the weirdoes.

 

Thankfully Georgie translated her boyfriend’s order, but other then bringing them their food and later the check, the waitress steered a wide path from their table. That had been the reaction they received at a number of their stops, though by far the most amusing was when Spinelli tried to explain the absolute necessity of internet access, even if it was only through the dreaded dial-up. That had not gone over well at the rustic lodge; where there had been a sign posted asking people to keep their laptops, cell phones, PDAs and beepers out of sight and preferably off in common areas.

 

Spinelli insisted that the place was giving him hives, so five minutes after checking in, they were checking out. It had been the only time on their trip that she wanted to yell at him, but with Georgie shooting her apologetic looks Emily held herself in check. So they continued on their way, an oddball threesome, and things had gone smoothly until today.

 

The young couple seemed content to amble, but Emily felt a great push to move forward. She knew what it felt like to have someone watching her having spent a lot of time guarded because of Jason and his precautions, and that sensation had been with her with for over 48-hours. There had been no clear indication of them being followed but she had been unable to shake her unease, which was probably why she snapped at Spinelli and Georgie, before changing direction towards Arizona. Though her home state presented similar problems to that of the beach, familiar ground appealed to her and Phoenix was big enough for them to get lost in if needed.

 

She hadn’t meant to find herself tiring late at night traveling on the southern edge of Colorado, but Route 160 had been the most direct route to take into Arizona from where they’d been. What convinced her that she’d be able to cover that amount of distance was beyond her and even though her instincts were telling her keep going; Emily was beginning to wish that they’d stopped in Cortez. It had been a touristy spot claiming central location to attractions like Mesa Verde and Four Corners. Spinelli and Georgie championed making a detour to Four Corners, but she had pointed out that there were only three of them. That had dimmed their enthusiasm so much that she had suggested stopping at the Grand Canyon instead. The happy grins and excitement had been worth it, even if the whole route they planned was backwards. Hitting the north rim would be easiest, but it was decided that they should pay a visit to the Grand Canyon Village as well, so heading for the south rim made the most sense. Or at the time it had, Emily wasn’t so certain as she stared out at the uninhabited road in front of her.

 

Coffee would help, she knew. If she was lucky she find a place to stop for some soon, because caffeine jolt or not, they were going to make it to Flagstaff.

 

\---

 

Dean was not the kind of guy who believed in the mystical power of nature. He had trouble believing in a higher power. If he wanted to play devil’s advocate the fact that he knew there was a hell, should mean that there was a heaven; but very little of what he encountered in his life was good, in the capital “G” sense of the word. Evil he knew. Good was merely something he read or heard about, though there had been moments – few and far between – in life where he had believed.

 

Right now, standing inches from the edge of the Grand Canyon, taking in it’s majesty with the sun beginning to set, was one such moment. Maybe it was because the air was cleaner and drier then he inhaled in a while or maybe it was the relaxed way Sam was standing beside him, wide grin on his face – whatever it was, Dean felt at peace. It was not a feeling he was use to, and one he was certain that was going to pass once they exited the park; but for the moment he decided to enjoy it for all it was worth. It was unlikely that he’d ever experience it again.

 

“Come on,” he heard a feminine voice plead. “They went over the rail, so can we.”

 

“Far be it from me to dissuade my Beloved from following her courageous heart, but the Jackal must protest. The peril presented far outweighs the optimal view.” It took all of Dean’s willpower not to snort when he heard the masculine voice refer to himself as “Jackal,” but he and Sam shared a look. His brother shrugged and went back to staring out at the Canyon.

 

“Emily?” the girl asked.

 

“I’m sure Noble Emily agrees with my conclusion,” the ‘Jackal’ replied. Dean rolled his eyes. The guy was seriously grating on his nerves and he wondered idly how his “Beloved” and the “Noble Emily” put up with him.

 

“No she does not,” the third voice sounded. “Come on Georgie.” He heard their feet scrapping as they crossed the railing. With nothing better to do, since he wasn’t ready to leave, Dean eavesdropped on their conversation.

 

“Has it changed any?”

 

A strong, clear laughter rang out. “I was eight the last time I was here Georgie. I can’t imagine that much has changed.”

 

“Technically speaking –”

 

Glancing pass Sam, Dean saw a curvy honey-brunette that looked barely into her twenties. The angle he had on the trio prevented a better look at the darker brunette beside her.

 

“No technical speak Spinelli. Not at the Grand Canyon.”

 

“Unless you join us on this side of the railing.”

 

Since he couldn’t get a good look at the other woman he leaned back slightly to get a better glimpse at the “Jackal” who was currently explaining why he shouldn’t cross the railing. His word choice was slightly less outrageous then the way he looked – dirty blonde hair all over the place, someone needed to buy the kid a comb Dean thought, and on further inspection he decided a new wardrobe. The mixture of jean-jacket, plaid cargo pants and striped t-shirt made his eyes hurt. The kid all but screamed geek. Dean had to make sure the Sammy got a look at him before they left, that way he’d have a visual reminder of what he was saved from becoming.

 

“Please Spinelli?” the girl asked. “For me?”

 

The boy looked like he was about to cave when the order to “Duck” sounded. The next sound he was familiar with – gunfire. Grabbing Sam’s shoulder he pulled his brother into a hunch with him, they turned together and Dean was grateful that he had not left his piece in the car. As he pulled his gun out and saw a lithe form jumping in front of the boy. The first shots whizzed by her form. Dean was returning fire before that registered with him.

 

\---

 

Emily tried to swipe away Spinelli’s hand, he was trying to tug her down, to protect her like he promised Jason he would, but the reality of the situation was the other way around. She’d been entrusted with Spinelli and Georgie and it was her job to keep them safe. Though getting shot would not help them in the long run. A new round of firing sounded, but this time from much closer to her.

 

Confused she finally took notice of the two men who’d been out on the edge of the Canyon when they arrived. Walking down she had appreciated their height and build, but hadn’t given them any real consideration. Now that one of them was shooting at their attackers she reevaluated them. The slimmer and taller of the two was closet to her and unarmed, so her attention went to blonde shooting. His build was similar to Jason’s and his grip on the gun was steady. Obviously he was comfortable with the weapon and for the moment that reassured her.

 

It was difficult but Emily managed to keep count of the shots fired from their attackers separate from their would-be rescuers. “Now,” she ordered, pulling on Spinelli, racing up towards the road where they left the Jeep parked.

 

“Hey!” a masculine voiced called out from behind them, but she didn’t stop. If the person firing at them was a professional the reload time would be minimum. As a fresh round sounded Emily cursed; professional all right, but in hurry now and no longer strictly firing at that them, which gave them an advantage. That was until she came up short at the sight of the Jeep. The hood was open and every exposed wire or tube had been cut.

 

The Impala parked in front of them seemed untouched. Grabbing both Georgie and Spinelli, Emily pushed them towards the other car. “My laptop!” Spinelli cried out.

 

“Not now.” Emily said a silent prayer when she found the doors to the car unlocked. She opened the door and Georgie got in, dragging Spinelli behind her. “We’ll get you a new one,” she heard Georgie promise as she slammed the door shut.

 

Ducking into the front seat Emily reached under the console. She closed her eyes for the briefest of seconds as she remembered the lesson on hotwiring that Lucky gave her. “Keys work better,” a voice informed her as she was shoved aside just as the car purred to life. She heard a sound of shocked approval before Spinelli started spouting off, “Minions of Darkness beware for I, the Jackal –”

 

“Calm down,” a new voice said, as Emily felt another figure settle next to her on passenger side of the car. “We’re the good guys.”

 

\---

 

Dean shot him a skeptical glance at his announcement before shifting into gear and roaring off. A fresh round of fire sounded and his brother grimaced. Sam knew he was thinking about possible damage to the Impala. In the backseat the young couple was talking in hushed tones. They were clearly wary of them even though Dean had come to their rescue, though Sam couldn’t blame them for their response. Beside him the girl, no scratch that thought, the woman sitting between him and Dean was completely still. Her dark eyes kept shifting between the side view mirrors. It took him a second to realize that she was looking to see if they were being followed.

 

Speeding out of the park Sam instructed Dean to, “Head for I-40.”

 

His brother nodded and laid into the gas petal. Until they could get off the 2-lane state highway the possibility of being followed and overtaken were serious. They sped along in a tense almost quiet, as Sam could hear the whispers from the backset but couldn’t make out any of the words, as day faded into night.

 

As his gaze traveled from side view mirror, to the girl between them, to his brother and back Sam wondered what the hell they’d gotten themselves into. It wasn’t until they were racing down I-40, heading east, that Dean singled him to start asking questions. Behind him the couple was finally silent and he noticed that every few minutes the woman beside him would met the gazes of her companions in the rearview mirror to offer them reassurance.

 

“I’m Sam and that’s my brother, Dean,” he said in introduction.

 

He felt the weight of dark eyes studying him, before they drifted to Dean. His brother smirked. Shaking her head the woman turned back to him. “I’m Emily,” she said. If she was scared or nervous her voice didn’t betray her. Glancing behind her she pointed to the boy, “That’s Spinelli and his _girlfriend_ , Georgie.” The emphasis on the word girlfriend was not lost on Sam. Off limits.

 

Mother-bear type. Who knew how to hotwire cars and if he remembered correctly the Spinelli kid had called her, “Noble Emily.” Sam was trying to piece everything together. The destroyed Jeep he’d seen had appeared to be brand new. Both Emily and Georgie were dressed appropriately for the cooler weather and their clothes showed little wear. The same could not be said for Spinelli. He didn’t fit with the classic, kept look of girls; though the way Georgie was snuggled up next to him made their connection quite clear.

 

Physically Emily did not appear to be related to Georgie or Spinelli. The build and coloring was wrong, and he could find no similar features. The age difference between the couple and their protector was another issue. Sam didn’t exactly have a read on normal, but he was pretty certain that age played a factor in normal friendships which was the only other option if his guess about them not being related was correct.

 

Cousins were an option, he supposed, but he still didn’t have a solid read on the threesome which bothered him. He was use to figuring out people quickly. The job relied on that skill. He must have been thinking too long because Dean remarked, “I think Sammy is trying to find a polite way to ask if you get shot at often.”

 

Between them Emily winced and Sam shot his brother a scathing look. Dean quirked his eyebrows, silently asking ‘What?’

 

“The Fair and Noble Emily declines your pathetic attempt at interrogation.” Sam saw Dean’s hands flex on the wheel. “I, the Jackal, insist that you pullover at the earliest convenience so that we may contact Stone Cold.”

 

“First, shut up,” Dean growled. “Second, I’m the one with the gun, so I will decide _if_ and when we stop. It certainly won’t be until we get some answers,” Spinelli tried to speak up, but Dean steamed rolled right over him, “about why my first vacation in years ended with me exchanging gunfire with someone who wasn’t after shooting me in the first place. Now, first question, what the hell is a stone cold?”

 

“Stone Cold—”

 

“Not you pipsqueak.”

 

“Don’t talk to him like that,” Georgie piped up.

 

“Enough,” Emily ordered. “Like it or not we do owe these guys an explanation.”

 

“But it could be setup Noble Emily. They could be working for the Minions of Darkness,” Spinelli said clearly aggravated by the possibility. Sam shared another look with Dean. It was like the kid was speaking another language all together, but it obvious that they were in trouble, just not the kind they were use to handling.

 

“Spinelli,” Emily hissed, warning him to keep quiet with her tone. She took a deep breath before saying, “I’m sorry about your vacation, but we do appreciate the save.”

 

“We’re going to need a little more then that if we’re going to be of any help,” Sam replied before Dean could jump in and exacerbate the situation.

 

“We don’t need your help.”

 

“Bullets fired in your direction earlier and that expensive tin can you call a Jeep says differently,” Dean remarked.

 

“Don’t take that tone with the Fair and Noble Emily!” Spinelli roared.

 

Tearing his eyes from the road Dean glared back at a kid, “ **MY** car, **MY** rules. Rule number one, you **DON’T** speak. _Ever_ ,” he growled before his attention returned to the road.

 

Spinelli sputtered and went to protest, but Georgie slapped her hand over his mouth. “Let Emily handle this.”

 

Dean was glaring at the road, while Emily glared at him. Sam sighed, they were getting nowhere fast. “It’s dark out and there is no way to know if the shooter is following us or not at this point. For right now you need our help,” he said in a cool, reasonable manner hoping to get through to both his brother and Emily.

 

“You have a point,” Emily acquiesced after a tense minute of silence. “So does Spinelli. We have no idea who you two are and before you remind us that we owe you our lives, let me point out that it could be a setup. You get us to trust you and then double cross us.”

 

“You’re kidding right?” The question stumbled out of his mouth before Sam could stop it.

 

“It’s been known to happen.”

 

“In spy movies, yeah, maybe,” Dean snarked.

 

Emily shrugged her shoulders. “A question for question with the option for no comment and a new question asked.”

 

“You’re joking.”

 

“No. So why are you carrying?” she asked Dean.

 

“That wasn’t a question,” Dean sputtered, before stating that: “Besides we haven’t agreed to anything.”

 

“The job calls for it,” Sam answered earning himself a death glare from his brother.

 

“And that would be?” Emily queried.

 

“Our question,” Dean reminded her.

 

“Right,” she sighed. “Ask away.”

 

\---

 

Growing up with a government spy for a father, a private investigator for a mother and the police commissioner as her only true parental figure, Georgie knew how to handle herself. Mac had seen to that and would agree with the tactic of not pissing off the only person with easy access to a gun, especially since they were unarmed, which is why she’d done her best to try and keep Spinelli silent. No easy feat, but she understood why her boyfriend was concerned. If the two guys who helped them at the Canyon turned out to be law enforcement it would be a hassle, but the possibility that they were rival mob henchmen was the worse case scenario. Until they could know for sure they had to play it safe. And, maybe, Georgie thought, if they had gotten really lucky, the brothers were bounty hunters. At least that’s what she hoped when Sam asked their next question.

 

“Do you know who was shooting at you?” Georgie couldn’t see his face, but his voice was soothing. Laced with concern and empathy. Good cop, she thought.

 

“No, not personally,” Emily answered.

 

Georgie knew that Emily couldn’t deny knowing anyone who was capable of killing of her. That would be a lie and it seemed that they both gathered that these men could tell a lie when they heard one. Besides, it was easier to tell as much as of the truth as possible because if you lied you’d have to keep the truth and the lie straight. One lie usually led to another and that was bound to get messy and blow up in their faces. She’d seen it happen to her sister, Maxie, enough to know that.

 

“That’s not what he meant,” Dean ground out, “and you know it.”

 

“Says you,” Emily replied tersely as she crossed her arms. For a number of miles the three of them sat in a silent standoff. It got so uncomfortable that Spinelli nudge her to get her attention. Meeting his gaze he seemed to ask if they should do something. Unsure, she shrugged. Georgie knew that he shouldn’t speak, but she was uncertain about entering the conversation herself. She knew that Jason had tasked Spinelli with Emily’s safety, but in actuality it was the other way around. Emily was there to look out for Spinelli, and since she insisted on coming along, Emily was meant to protect her by default.

 

Georgie did not doubt Emily’s capability, so she decided to wait and see what her protector would do next. It was another few minutes before Emily relented. “Fine,” she said the word with distaste. “No comment.”

 

“What—” Sam started to ask, but Dean cut him off. “What’s a stone cold then?”

 

Again Emily replied, “No comment.”

 

“Animal, vegetable or mineral then?” Dean questioned with sarcasm. “No don’t tell me, the ice creamery right?”

 

“Dean we’re not wasting a turn on that,” Sam stated angrily. “Emily, will you tell us why you were being shot at?”

 

“No.”

 

“We can’t help—” Sam started.

 

“I think it’s my question now,” Emily interrupted.

 

“I don’t think so _sweetheart_. You didn’t answer our question.”

 

Emily glowered at Dean. “He asked if I would tell you why we were shot at – I answered that. It’s my turn. What kind of work do you two do?”

 

“No comment,” Dean snapped.

 

“Fine. Stop the car,” Emily ordered. “We’re getting out.”

 

\---

 

Instead of slowing down Dean sped up. His grasp on the wheel was tight, so much so, that his knuckles were turning white. “Some vacation Sammy,” he grumbled as the engine purred loudly.

 

His brother ignored his comment and spoke to the woman sitting between them. “Emily we’re not your enemies.”

 

“I’m supposed to trust you on that?” she fired back. Dean hated to admit that she had point. Granted they helped her, but as she suggested it could be a ploy. What kind of woman thought that way? A hunter might, but the lithe woman sitting next to him was no hunter. Of that Dean was sure.

 

“It’s not like you’re offering us reasons to trust you Princess,” he pointed out. “That ploy idea of yours works both ways.”

 

“How dare you insult the intentions of Noble Emily.” Dean gnashed his teeth at the sound of Geek Boy’s voice. “She is most honest and true.”

 

“What did I say?” Dean hollered and his voice echoed in the confined space.

 

“Spinelli,” Emily said her voice soft and calming, “I appreciate you defending my honor, but it’s not necessary.”

 

“But,” the young man protested.

 

“Dean’s right,” she said over him. “One of us has to take the first leap. I’ve been known to do that,” Emily continued with a wistful smile, “but then it was just me. I have to think about Georgie and Spinelli. Their safety is my priority.”

 

“Stone Cold wants me to protect you,” Spinelli argued vehemently from the backseat.

 

“I don’t care if you have to make out with him. Just keep him quiet,” Dean seethed. For the second time in under an hour he watched as the girl covered her boyfriend’s mouth with her hand. Unlike the last time the kid did not try to speak around it and for that Dean was grateful. “I guess that answers one question. Stone Cold is a person. Seriously dude, what the hell kind of nickname is that?”

 

“It fits him,” the girl, Georgie, offered.

 

“Whatever. Look we help people,” he found himself explaining. Dean knew what it was to be responsible for someone. Sam could pretty much take care of himself now, but it was clear that Emily’s charges, especially the boy, could not. He figured if she could give him that the least he could do was offer up something in return. “We don’t do everything by the book,” and man was that an understatement, “but we’re willing to help you if you’ll let us.”

 

Out of the corner of his eye he caught the surprise look on Sam’s face. It wasn’t often that he played the good guy in these situations, but he had something in common with Emily; the weight of responsibility. It wasn’t much but it was a place to start.

 

\---

 

Emily mulled over Dean’s words, the tone of his voice and the clear way he delivered them. Either he was a really good liar or meant them. Definitely a liar and a charmer, she thought, but the way he said “help” had her believing him. Or wanting to at least. Right now having someone, particularly if they were armed, on their side would be reassuring. “I need to ask you two very important questions. If I believe you I’ll let you help, otherwise the first time you stop for gas we’re gone.”

 

Everyone zeroed in one the gas indicator. There was a quarter of a tank left.

 

“All right,” Sam agreed for them.

 

“Give me your arm,” she instructed Sam.

 

“What? Why?” Dean questioned, as his brother gave into her request.

 

Emily rolled up the sleeve of his jacket and shirt; thanks to her medical training she found his pulse easily. “Not exactly a lie detector but it will have to do under the circumstances.”

 

“Who are you?” Dean asked bewildered.

 

She ignored his question and concentrated on Sam’s pulse. Once she got the beat down she asked her first question. “Are you member of any branch of law enforcement?” Beside her Dean scoffed. Sam was looking at her oddly himself, but he answered her question with a simple, “No.” His pulse stayed steady and his gaze did not waver.

 

Now for the truly important question. “Do you know man by the name of Anthony Zacharra?”

 

Again Sam answered, “No.” There was no change in his pulse and he eyes stayed on hers as understanding crept into them. “He’s who’s after you.”

 

It wasn’t a question, but Emily answered it all the same. “Yes.”

 

“I guess that means we passed the test,” Dean remarked.


End file.
